


The Stop Over: A Ter Map Short Story

by the_real_a_cosmo (california_112)



Category: The Ter Map
Genre: Action, Aviation, Hurt/Comfort, Mystery, Pilots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-10 07:16:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17421461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/california_112/pseuds/the_real_a_cosmo
Summary: Bernie and Louis entered through the ‘runway’ double doors and, settling down on their usual chairs in the common corner, Louis was just about to suggest a game of snakes and ladders when Commander Hurst burst through the doors from the corridor and ran through the Mess, disappearing out the runway doors.-or-When a mysterious plane touches down on Mecrenris Island with engine trouble, all is not as it seems, and soon events begin to spiral. However, help is here in the form of Bernie Cosmo, a teenage pilot, and Louis Merrel, a teenage spy, who will do their all to resolve the mystery before everything gets out of control...Featuring illustrations by the brilliant @macaronimood (Tumblr)!(A kind of Biggles-esque serial, or a short story in four parts. All jargon explained, as far as I know.)





	1. Chapter 1

A beautiful blue summer's day, and all was quiet on the tiny speck of land called Mecrenris Island. Located just off the coast above Newcastle upon Tyne, in the North Sea, it was barely more than a rock sticking out of the sea, but nearly four hundred people called it home, counting the people in and around the three main settlements of King, Trec, and Serrem, and that handful that lived on the island’s main feature: Mecrenris Airfield. Here, near the northern tip of the island, Bernadette ‘Bernie’ Cosmo was on the edge of the aeroplane tie-downs near the water tap. She appeared to be no more than fifteen, and as she worked, her long, dark brown hair occasionally flopped down into her face, as it had only been hurriedly tied back in two loose pony tails, one with a red scrunchie and the other with a blue. Her attire was typically scruffy for both her and the job she was doing: old blue overalls and a too-big shirt with the sleeves hastily rolled up. The object of her efforts was an aeroplane; her aeroplane, a Cessna* to be precise. Bernie had just handed it back from a short maintenance flight and now had a hose in one hand and a large sponge in the other, washing down the plane’s fuselage of bugs and general pollution. A short distance away, out of reach of the wildly flailing hose, her best friend Louis Merrel sat on a small bank near the tap, changing the pressure for her with one hand and eating a hastily prepared sandwich with the other. The most striking feature of his appearance was his tri-dyed hair, with the top third natural brown, the middle third platinum blonde, and the tips a shade of blue-ish purple. Being fifteen, and a student at the island’s Spy School, this was hardly allowed by his mother, but he did it anyway. The only sounds were the splashing of water on the aluminium of the plane and a bird singing in the woodland to their right. Otherwise the entire island seemed to be peacefully silent from were Bernie and Louis were.

          "Nice day today, isn't it?" commented Louis, looking at the cloudless blue sky above them, only broken by the shining rays of the sun.

          "Yes," replied Bernie, "This would be a nice day for flying the Stearman*. Oh, and you can turn the water off now thanks, I'm done."

Flicking the tap off, Louis finished the last bite of his sandwich and stood up. "Are we taking her back to the hangar of just to the tie-down?" he queried, gesturing to the Cessna.

          "Just to the tie-down." Bernie said. "Hop in."

Slowly taxiing the plane over to the other side of the aircraft park, the two of them hopped down and took one tie down each. Bernie struggled to pull the nylon webbing around the wing-supporting strut, then tied the other end to the wire in the ground. Louis did the same on the other side, and then they both walked across the apron at the end of the runway, making their way towards the main building. This was the hub of the airfield, containing the air traffic control tower, the offices, a couple of spare bedrooms, and downstairs, the Mess. This large room contained an assortment of chairs, sofas, benches and tables, and hot coffee and cold food could always be found there. The atmosphere was a relaxed one, and it made for a good place to chill out. Bernie and Louis entered through the ‘runway’ double doors and, settling down on their usual chairs in the common corner, Louis was just about to suggest a game of snakes and ladders when Commander Hurst burst through the doors from the corridor and ran through the Mess, disappearing out the runway doors. Although he had not been in the Fleet Air Arm almost forty years, the Commander had retained his title out of pride, and also because he thought it helped him run the airfield, him being a little below average in height. He was generally seen wearing camouflage green or dark blue slacks, and a slightly wild mop of grey-brown hair stuck out from under whatever hat he was wearing. He was the owner and manager of the airfield, and a great friend of Louis and Bernie, so, alarmed, the two children got up and ran out after him.

          "Commander, what's the matter?" Bernie asked, stopping next to him on the edge of the runway.

          "Karl from radio just told me they received a distress signal from a light aircraft, a Piper Apache*." the Commander said, scanning the skies. "One of their engines has been giving them trouble, and they're going to make an emergency landing here."

Just as he finished speaking, a plane appeared on the horizon from the south. It seemed to be listing slightly, but made its final approach almost normally and landed correctly, if slightly off the exact centre of the runway.

As soon as they had touched down, Commander Hurst started moving to meet them, and their paths crossed as the twin-engine craft left the runway near the hangars. It switched off it’s engines, and the cabin door opened. A man climbed out over the wing, jumping to the ground then walking over to meet the Commander. He was a little taller than average, with short, messy, dark brown hair and brown eyes. His face had a smattering of freckles and he was wearing glasses which had thin wire frames, discreetly taped on one side. He held out his hand, and Commander Hurst shook it.

          "Hi," he said, smiling a little. "I’m Timothy, but please, call me Tim. This is my brother, Peter."

Another man now appeared from the aeroplane, where he had been checking something, and joined them. He was average height like his brother and had messy, jet black hair. His eyes were light grey, and there was a small scar on his cheek. His eyes flicked around all their faces, lingering for a second on the Commander’s, then he also shook his hand.

          "Well, I'm Commander Hurst." said the Commander. "What can I do for you gentlemen? I heard that you were having some engine trouble."

          "You heard correctly.” Tim said. “It would be great if a mechanic could look at our engine." said Tim, gesturing to the left engine of the Piper. "It just started acting up-"

          "John Hurst?" Peter was looking at the Commander questioningly.

Commander Hurst looked temporarily confused, but suddenly understanding seemed to dawn on his face. "Peter Harcourt? Can it be?"

          "The very same!"

          "You're far from home!"

          "Well, not too far from our last home. Anyway, I think that cross country flights are best enjoyed at this time of year."

The Commander and Peter embraced quickly then broke away. Bernie and Louis exchanged awkward glances. Apparently Tim was feeling awkward too.

          "So, about my engine…"

But the Commander and Peter were now walking away towards the Mess, chatting heartily about 'the days when…'. Bernie turned from staring at the Commander and his long-lost friend to look at Tim.

          "Uh, if you need help with your engine, I could take a look."

Tim looked at Bernie incredulously. "I think I’ll wait for your boss to look at it."

          "I don't have a boss, " Bernie said, "and I'm not a mechanic. I'm just a pilot.” She shrugged. “I could still take a look though."

Muttering, Tim lead Bernie over to the engine. Opening the metal outer cowling, Tim pointed into the darkness.

          "I think we've run out of oil." Tim said. “I knew I should have topped up, but it looked like enough…”

Bernie confirmed that this was indeed the problem, and went off to the supply shed to get some more. Whilst she was away, Louis got chatting to Tim.

          "So," Louis asked, "What were you doing before you landed?"

          "Oh, just a cross country flight." replied Tim. "Got to keep my little Pearl shining."

Louis noticed that the aircraft did indeed have 'Pearl' written on the side of the nose with a picture of a shining pearl within an oyster. Louis commented on this.

          "Yes, I painted that when I first got her." replied Tim. "Peter got her for me when the base he used to work on was getting rid of some old trainer planes. He used to work with the Fleet Air Arm, you see. I was there too, as a groundsman because of my eyesight, but I was always interested in flying, and he taught me at a local airfield. He used to keep up his licence, but I think it went out of date a couple of years back. I only keep mine up to fly this beauty, and occasionally I let him take the controls."

          "So how does he know Commander Hurst?" asked Louis.

          "I think Peter knows him because Commander Hurst was a big noise at our base a while back, a fancy flier and one of the best." said Tim. "They became friends, but then they had a fight over who got to be CO of a new base that was being set up. John- Commander Hurst, I mean- was chosen because he had the better record, and Peter had…well, the Commander had the better record at the time, that's all."

Before Louis could ask any more questions, Bernie appeared back from the supply shed and started refilling the oil through a funnel from an old can. Just as she finished topping it up, Peter appeared from the direction of the Mess and came over to the little group. The Commander was nowhere in sight.

          "Tim, a word?"

          "Sure." Tim replied casually, closing the cowling.

Peter flicked his eyes in Louis and Bernie's direction. "In private?"

          "Oh, sure. Excuse us…" Tim and Peter walked to the Piper, climbed in and shut the door.

Bernie and Louis started walking back to the Mess, hoping to play the game of snakes and ladders mentioned earlier. They walked in silence, until Bernie spoke.

          "Louis, I think there's something weird going on here." she said. "I don't know why, it's just…a feeling."

          "About what?" asked Louis.

          "Well," began Bernie, "when I went off to get the oil, there wasn't any in the shed so I went to that last lot that we took upstairs to storage. As I passed Commander Hurst's office, I heard him talking to Peter and they seemed to be just bantering, but the Commander said something about a robbery, and Peter didn't seem to find it so funny. I think he tried to cover it up, but to me he really sounded angry. I got the oil from storage, and as I went back down, I saw Peter leaving the Commander's office. Before he closed the door he looked like he was laughing, but when it was closed he looked properly angry. I don't think he saw me, but he stalked off down the stairs a picture of annoyance. I thought I would see him when I got back to the plane, but he passed me on the stairs going back up. I came straight to the plane, and he arrived a little after me. You saw the rest."

          "Weird, but it's not too out of the ordinary for people to argue, Bernie." said Louis, pushing open the doors to the Mess.

          "True." said Bernie, getting the snakes and ladders set and bringing it to a table. "Us over this game, for example."

Louis gave her a look and picked up a counter with a low mutter of “Game on.”.

* * *

After Tim and Peter climbed in the Piper and shut the door, both sat down in the back seats.

          "How was your catch up with the Commander?" asked Tim, sitting back to look at his brother.

          "Fine, just fine." said Peter in a strange voice.

          "What's wrong?"

          "I'm a little…angry, that's all." replied Peter. "All this history dug up again, just because of some oil."

          "Or a lack of it. Wait, is this about that…new base, again? You can't keep going on about that, it's way in the past!"

          "And I want to make it stay there now, permanently."

          "What's this all about, Peter?"

          "Listen, Tim. You remember the story of that position to start a new base up for grabs? You know who got the post - John - and you know who didn't get the post - me. Well, now I realise that he deserved that post more than me, what with my…history, at that point. I'm over it all, and there's just one last thing I want to do. Tomorrow, I'll give you something that I want you to put it in John's office. It’s just a small letter, and we’ll be gone after that. I would give it myself but I don’t really want to chat about it, so I’d prefer you to do it.” He looked to his brother with pleading eyes. “Just go in, drop it and come out again, it won't take a minute. Will you do it?"

          "If you'll stop being annoyed about the past, then of course."

          "Good." Peter seemed to relax. "I'll get the letter to you later."

With that, Tim got into the control seat and Peter went to pick up a small black bag from under the passenger seat. When the plane jolted as the engines started up, the lid fell open for a second, and three or four small, black velvet bags fell out. Peter scrabbling to pull them all back in, Tim continued taxiing the plane over to a hangar that they had been told they could use for a day or so, not seeming to notice the trouble in the back seat. By the time Tim switched off again, Peter was waiting in the back to get out like nothing had happened. After that, both made their way over to the Mess, chatting happily.

* * *

The next day, just as the sun was starting to slip towards the horizon, Tim was sitting in the Mess sipping a cup of coffee and waiting for Peter to appear. When he did, he casually dropped an envelope on the table with a smile, and then went over to get a coffee for himself. Tim decided to finish his coffee before dropping it off, and just as he did so the doors into the rest of the building burst open, and three people ran through, piled through the runway doors and disappeared. Not interested in following whatever situation had arisen, Tim got up, dropped off his coffee mug and headed upstairs to drop off the letter at Commander Hurst’s office. Leaving the chatter of the Mess behind, he started looking for Commander Hurst's office, one door at a time.

* * *

          "Bernie! Someone's landing a plane outside!"

Louis was shouting as he ran into the hangar office where Bernie was sitting with her feet up on the desk, reading a comic book. At Louis's cry, she jumped up, dropped the comic and bumped into him as he came through the door.

          "What's going on?" she asked, as Louis dragged her towards the hangar door.

          "Look! There's a plane putting down on the runway - and its police!"

* * *

_*References (Ignore registrations):_

_Bernie's Cessna:_

_Bernie's Stearman (mentioned):_

__

_Tim's Piper Apache:_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter One: Bernie and Louis watch as the plane slips lower and lower, before it gently runs to a stop on the runway. Why have the police landed here? What will they do next? Find out in the next exciting chapter of The Stop Over!


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two: After the Piper Apache 'Pearl' lands at Mecrenris airfield with engine trouble, two strangers are added to the crew. Peter and Timothy Harcourt are brothers, and Peter seems to know Commander Hurst, but not everything is as happy as it seems. But shortly after Peter asks Tim to deliver a letter for him, and promises their swift exit from the island, an aeroplane with police markings is seen to be coming in to land!

          "Look! There's a plane putting down on the runway - and its police!"

          "I wonder what they want?" asked Bernie, joining Louis outside the hangar.

As they watched, the Britten-Norman Islander* touched down and taxied off the runway. After switching its engine off on one of the taxiways, Bernie and Louis saw someone wearing a blue overcoat jump out and start walking over to the Commander, who was outside the Mess. When they reached the Commander, they seemed to show him something, prompting him to reflexively half-salute and lead them into the Mess. Shortly after that another person in a blue overcoat got out of the plane and followed them into the Mess. Not wanting to miss anything, Bernie and Louis decided to go inside too, and find out who these people were. When they pushed open the door, they were greeted with something which they had never seen before: Commander Hurst not being the most senior person in a room. Normally he was obviously in charge, everyone else obeying his every word because they knew he knew best. However, now, two people were standing opposite him, one still wearing their dark blue overcoat and questioning the Commander in a slightly sharp tone. The other was in shirtsleeves and a blue waistcoat, their overcoat messily thrown over the back of a nearby chair, suit jacket not in sight, and they sat on the back of the sofa rubbing their chin and staring at the floor, looking mildly bored. Both the newcomers only looked up when the door slammed behind Bernie and Louis. The one sitting on the sofa looked up, looked away and then seemed to remember something and flicked out a wallet. A police logo showed for a brief second whilst he muttered "Bertie McCabe…" in a Scottish accent, then dropped back into his pocket. The other man, however, turned smartly around and touched his hat even to the children, flicking his badge in their faces before snapping it away. "Detective G. Clint, Northumbria Police.". After this brief introduction, he turned back around and continued talking to the Commander.

          "What information do you have on the aircraft registration G-HKSE?" Detective Clint asked.

          "Should I even recognize that registration?" replied the Commander, looking bewildered.

          "Yes, you should." put in Bernie.

Detective Clint spun around. "Who are you? What do you know about this?"

          "Bernie Cosmo." said Bernie, gauging the apparently quite serious situation. "and G-HKSE - that was the registration of Tim's plane."

Both detectives looked up. "By ‘Tim’, would you be referring to Timothy Harcourt?" asked McCabe.

          "I think so?" Bernie replied, struggling to recall the pilots surname.

          "Where is he now?" asked McCabe, getting up and looking around as though he might be in the room.

          "I'm not sure." said Bernie.

Suddenly, through the silence of the detectives thinking and people waiting, there was the sound of slow footsteps from upstairs.

          "Who's up there?"

          "Well it could be anyone-" began the Commander.

          "But who would be sneaking around up there?" said McCabe, already moving towards the door.

          “Who’s sneaking?” Bernie asked, just as confused as Commander Hurst.

          "I really don't-"

But McCabe was now running for the door, closely followed by Clint, watched by the stupefied occupants of the Mess.

* * *

After Tim had left the Mess, the letter in hand, he had found himself in a short corridor, two doors on one side and one on the other. The first one didn’t have a name plate, and was just reaching to knock when he heard muffled voices talking about University Challenge. None of them were the Commander’s voice, so he went to the next. There were no voices so he knocked, but the door wasn’t closed properly, and promptly fell open, his hand frozen in the act of knocking again. It had a small kitchen arrangement along the right-hand wall and a shelf set with a green medical bag on it. A large threadbare rug covered the old wooden floor and there was a bookcase stuffed with thick, old books on the left wall. In the middle was a large sofa which was occupied by a figure sleeping with a battered, old, green medic coat over them. It was only as he backed out that Tim noticed a small, official-looking plaque on the door which read 'Medics Break Room' below a crudely-drawn sign reading 'The Swamp' in large red letters outlined in white.

Closing the door quietly so as not to disturb the sleeping figure, Tim checked the last room of the corridor, but only heard a couple of gruff voices discussing inverted in-line engines. None of these were the Commander’s either, so Tim carried on through the double doors at the other end of the corridor and arrived in a large reception room. The chair behind the desk on his left was empty. Looking right, he saw a staircase set into the wall and followed as it curled to the first floor. There was another corridor stretching away to the left which he followed round, looking out of the windows on the front at the car park and entrance to the airfield. After a few steps it turned left again, and Tim was greeted with several more doors.

The first two were signed as bathrooms, but the next only had an unreadably old brass nameplate which seemed to have lost all traces of what it read long ago. But, by peering closer, Tim could just about discern the letters 'J…n…urst" which told him that he had found his objective: Commander Hurst's office. Trying the handle, it was locked. He looked up and down the corridor before kneeling and trying to put the letter under the door, but it only made a tear in the corner. Panic seeping in at the back of his mind, a strange idea came to him as he saw something lying on the floor. Putting the bobby pin into the lock, he started to twist it around roughly in the wild hope of opening it; anything to deliver the envelope and get his brother to shut about the years-old feud. But even before he started to think about it, he knew that this situation could only end badly. Even as he felt something click under his shaking hand, footsteps were pounding up the stairs behind him. Whipping around, he felt something drop out of the letter as a figure hurtled around the corner, already shouting.

          "You there! Stop! You're under arrest!"

* * *

          "You have the right to remain silent, but…"

Back down in the Mess, everything had changed. The atmosphere of the crowd had gone from one of mild interest in something that didn't affect them to one of almost panic about something that really could affect them. Commander Hurst was sitting at a table staring into a cup of coffee and looking confused, Bernie and Louis were discussing the situation on one of the sofas and Tim was having his wrists handcuffed by Detective McCabe and having his rights read to him by Detective Clint. All the others in the room were whispering among themselves, talking about what on earth the police were doing here on Mecrenris Island and why the newcomer Tim had been arrested. After a few minutes, Tim was taken out the front of the building and put into a silver car which the police had commandeered from Commander Hurst. The detectives and Tim sped away towards the village police station, and silence settled on the Commander, Bernie and Louis as they watched it disappear into the night.

          "What happened with him?" said the Commander. "I never marked him as a thief!"

          "Neither did I," said Louis, "But that jewel was the clearest evidence."

          “Falling out of the envelope at that exact moment…I don’t see how he can be innocent.” Bernie put in.

          "And trying to frame me!" said the Commander. "Why? I don't understand."

          "I don't either." said Bernie. "But the jewel came from the letter that he was going to deliver, there's no doubt about that."

          "Yes." said the Commander. "There was a rip in the corner, and more jewels in the envelope. I don't see any way he can be innocent."

The group fell silent, and eventually it dispersed. Commander Hurst muttered something about his office and wandered off up the stairs. Bernie and Louis made their way slowly back to the Mess and sat down at a table. The show over, many people had flown home again, left for the island’s main town of Serrem, which was just a few minutes away down the hill on which the airfield was situated, or simply seemingly disappeared into the night. Munching slowly on some biscuits stolen from the kitchens, Bernie and Louis both reviewed Tim's situation back in the Mess. Bernie had a gut feeling he was innocent; he just didn't seem like the kind of person to frame someone for a jewel robbery, and definitely not the type to rob a bank. Louis thought about who would rob a bank, who could be associated with this sudden development…

_"…the Commander said something about a robbery, and Peter didn't find it so funny."_

Who could be associated with this development…

_"…Peter had…well, John had the better record, that's all."_

Who would rob a bank…? Suddenly, it all clicked into place. "Bernie, I think I've got something. I’ve got an idea of who's fault this really is!"

* * *

          "So, you're saying that it wasn't Tim who did the robbery, but Peter?"

          "Yes, Commander."

          "And what makes you think that, Louis?"

          "Well, when I was talking to Tim after they landed, he hinted said that Peter had a spot on his record from a while back, and Bernie told me that she heard Peter react to you mentioning a robbery." explained Louis.

          "You were eavesdropping on my conversation?" said Commander Hurst, looking questioningly at Bernie.

          "Well, I couldn't really help hearing." said Bernie sheepishly. “You weren’t exactly being quiet, and the walls aren’t too thick.”

          "Well, let's take it to the Police then. I think we should try anything to prove Tim's innocence."

* * *

          "Did you write the letter?"

          "No comment."

          "What were you doing with the letter?"

          "No comment."

          "Who gave you the letter?"

Silence.

          "Say something!"

          "No comment."

Detective Clint leant back from the table. "No comment, no comment…you'll have to answer some time, Mr. Harcourt!"

          "Go easy on him, he's just observing his rights." said McCabe, continuing to stare out the small window of the police cell in Serrem Police Station, engrossed in the clouds scudding by.

His overcoat was thrown loosely over the back of the chair which Clint was sitting on, and he was deep in thought as always. Clint was still wearing his overcoat, he never seemed to take it off. Tim was sitting on another chair on the other side of an old wooden table, his handcuffed hands resting on the table in front of him, and he was solidly observing his right of silence. He didn't want to incriminate him or his brother by saying the wrong thing, even though he was sure that it was all Peter’s fault. Jewels in the package, why hadn't he been told? What were the jewels in there for? Where had they come from? Suddenly, as though his mind had been read-

          "You know where those jewels came from, don't you?"

Tim stayed silent, waiting for the detective to answer his question.

          "They came from a famous bank robbery a couple of years back. The perpetrators were never caught. But one of them matches your description very closely- I wonder, could it be you, seeing as you have some of the gems from the robbery?"

          "No comment."

Clint walked over to McCabe by the window and whispered not-so-quietly "He's obviously guilty. He just won't talk.". Suddenly, there was a knock on the door and one of the Mecrenris Island police officers came in.

          "Commander Hurst to see you two detectives, detectives." she said, waiting around for an answer.

          "No, we're-"

          "Tell him we’re coming." broke in McCabe. "Any idea what he wants?"

          "None, he just said that he wanted to talk to you, urgently." said the officer.

          "Well, we'll see him outside." said McCabe and followed the officer out, Clint trailing in his wake.

When the door was closed, the footsteps had moved away, and a door had slammed, Tim got up quietly and moved over to the window. Time to start thinking.

* * *

Commander Hurst was standing in the corridor outside the one cell on Mecrenris Island where Tim was being held, his dark blue overcoat hanging loosely from his shoulders. Louis and Bernie were standing some way behind him in the doorway, trying to look as though they were not listening but really paying close attention to every word. Commander Hurst was explaining Louis's theory to the police officer and the two detectives.

          “There are two brothers, Mr. Timothy Harcourt who you have here, and Mr. Peter Harcourt, who we haven’t seen recently.” The Commander explained.  “I really don’t think that Tim could have done it, he just isn’t that sort of person, and I know him from a few years back. His brother, though, Peter, I flew with a couple of times. I don’t want to incriminate him, but I’ve got to tell the truth…he had a spot on his record when I first met him. I’m not completely sure what it was, but I knew it was rumored to be something to do with a bank robbery. I mentioned it the other day and he reacted…I really do think it’s him we should be looking for, and that Tim’s in the clear.”

When he was finished, only the police officer seemed to have one question.

          "Do you have any proof?"

At this, the Commander was stumped. A fatal, unthought of flaw in their entire plan. No proof.

          "But look at the story!" said Louis suddenly, joining the conversation.

          "The only proof we have is your word, and that's just not enough." said the officer. "We don't even have any proof that his brother ever existed, nobody except you three has apparently seen him, at least nobody has reported seeing him."

Silence fell on the group.

          "Has anyone searched the aeroplane?" asked McCabe.

          "No," began Louis, "but-"

          "Then let's do that!" said the Commander, going outside. "We can use my car, it's already here…"

          "I'll stay here, guard the prisoner." said Clint, walking back into the cell and closing the door.

* * *

          "So, this is Harcourt's aeroplane, Commander." said McCabe, walking over to where the _Pearl_ stood in her hangar.

          "Yes, detective." said Commander Hurst. "G-HKSE. Definitely the one."

Trying the handle, Detective McCabe found the door unlocked, and clambered in. The Commander climbed into the cockpit to search there whilst McCabe took the back. After a few minutes looking all around the interior of the tiny aeroplane, they both reported back.

          "Nothing in the front." said the Commander, getting out of the plane.

          "Nothing in the- come back!"

McCabe's shout bought Bernie and Louis running from the hangar door. When they arrived, the detective was holding in his hand a small, black velvet bag. And spilling out of the bag were a few, small-

          "Diamonds!" breathed Commander Hurst, the strip lights of the hangar reflecting off them, lighting up his face.

          "The very ones from the robbery that we think Harcourt was involved with."

          "Which Harcourt?"

          "Well obviously not the invisible…brother…"

McCabe's speech slurred as he saw who was coming out of the shadows across the tarmac. "How on earth did he get out?". A dark figure was running across the tarmac towards the group, their face in deep shadow from a hood, but their build similar to Tim’s. There was a small bag in one hand, and a long, thick stick in the other. Detective McCabe went forwards to intercept him.

          "Stop, pol-agh!"

McCabe crumpled under the blow to his head, and he figure waved the stick threateningly at the others as he backed towards the plane.

          "Let me go, and nobody else gets hurt." Said a familiar voice.

          "You'll never get away with this, Peter." Commander Hurst growled.

          "Watch me, John, watch me." The figure turned around and started to get into the plane.

The Commander jumped at him, pushing him forward. As they fell their hood flew off, and Peter’s face was visible for a second before his head hit the floor of the plane. Seemingly unaffected, he threw the Commander off backwards into Bernie and Louis behind him and jumped in. Seconds later the engines started up, and the plane taxied off, launching into the night within moments, not waiting for air traffic control clearance. Commander Hurst was the first to recover.

          "Bernie, Louis, are you alright?"

          "Yes," said Bernie. "We're ok. But I don't think Detective McCabe is."

          "Oh god…" the Commander muttered, as he knelt next to McCabe. "He's been hit hard, we'll have to get him to the infirmary.” He referred to the room above the Mess kitted out with beds and a small supply of medical equipment. “Bernie and Louis, go and get help. I'll stay here in case he comes ‘round."

Bernie and Louis ran off towards the Mess, quickly disappearing into the thick darkness of the evening. Entering the building, someone was running in from the opposite doors and stopped them in their tracks.

          "I'll get this, you get help." Bernie puffed to Louis, and he started moving off again.

          "No, wait," said the person, who Bernie didn't recognize.

          "What? There's an injured person in hangar two." said Bernie.

          "Well, there will be several more injured people if you don't send some help to the police station right away, and call a fire engine too. Someone set a fire, and the whole building might go up!"

* * *

_*References (Ignore registrations):_

_The police Britten-Norman Islander:_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Two: With McCabe unconscious in a hangar outside, Peter escaped in the Pearl and news of a fire in the island police station, the situation is turning dire. What's caused the fire in the police station, and are Tim and Detective Clint going to be alright? Will Detective McCabe recover in time to help? How will Peter be found? Find out in the next sensational chapter of The Stop Over!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three: Tim has been arrested on charge of robbery and is being held in Mecrenris Island Police Station. In the events afterwards, Peter has attacked and knocked out Detective McCabe, and as Bernie and Louis go to get help, they are met by a messenger from the village. Through their panting from the quick run to the airfield, the runner manages to tell Bernie that someone has set a fire in the police station, and at least Tim and Detective Clint are still inside!

          "Send help to the police station right away, and call a fire engine too. Someone lit a fire, and the whole police station is going to go up!"

          "I'm on it!" Louis shouted behind him as he ran towards the medic and fire crew break rooms, which with any luck might still be sparsely populated, even at this time of night.

A couple of minutes later, after a couple of people and a medic had been sent to pick up Detective McCabe, Commander Hurst was driving rather haphazardly in his car with two medics, speeding towards the village. Half way through the journey, they were joined by fire engine, hurrying away from the warm lights of the fire station. Screeching to a halt, the fire crew started to set up their hoses as quick as lighting and the two medics set up some blankets on the ground. They would do first aid as best as they could, but if there was anything serious then an ambulance would have to be called.

The Commander leapt from his car, but caught with one leg still inside and one arm resting on the door, he could only stand and stare. The police station was a small building, set slightly apart from other buildings on the edge of the town, and flames were licking out of all the windows in the cells half, a large column of smoke reaching for the midnight moon. As he numbly locked his car, he watched, feeling helpless against the bonfire, and moved slightly to the side. Suddenly, he noticed the female police officer who had introduced him to the detectives at the station earlier was coming over. She was wrapped in an orange blanket with a small bandage on her head, but she seemed otherwise unhurt. The Commander turned to her as she reached him, but she just shook her head.

          "I don’t think anybody could have escaped." she said. "It was lucky that I was so near the door, I’d just come in, I wouldn't have made it otherwise. Detective Clint and Mr. Harcourt were still in the cell, so…"

The two watched the blaze together as four firemen rushed in under the heavy jets of water. There was silence for a minute, before both spoke together.

          "So where are-"

          "So what's your-"

          "You first."

          "No, please, you first."

          "Fine." the police officer gave in. "I was going to ask, where are those children who were with you earlier?"

          "I made them stay back at the airfield, they’re completely tired out." answered the Commander. "They've probably gone to sleep now."

          "And your question?"

          "Well, this is going to sound stupid, but what's your name? We were never introduced, and-"

          "Samantha Kelsey, head of Mecrenris Island Police. Everyone calls me Sam." she held out her hand and the Commander shook it politely, muttering "Nice to meet you."

Suddenly, there was a bang from inside which made everyone flinch, and soon after the fireman reappeared. But they were not alone.

* * *

          "Ugh…ugh…"

          "He's coming around!"

Hurried footsteps, and someone sitting down near him. Through a thick mist, he saw someone peering down at him.

          "Detective McCabe, can you hear me?"

          "Mmmm…"

          "Detective, wake up!"

          "Huh? What?"

The medic leant back, and seemed to let out a sigh of relief. "You gave us quite a fright there, officer, that's a nasty crack to the head you've got. What do you remember?"

          "Uh," began McCabe, head pounding, "I was searching the plane, then someone was running at me and I asked them to stop but they swung something at me…now I'm here. Where is here?"

          "The…infirmary, we call it, on Mecrenris Airfield. Our medic team picked you up from near the plane and bought you straight here."

          "Where are the others?" asked McCabe, looking around the seemingly brightly lit room.

          "Well…" began the doctor, not looking at McCabe.

          "Clint, Commander Hurst, those two kids, where are they?"

The doctor looked around awkwardly. "The two children are sleeping in bedrooms in the corridor outside, and the Commander is down in Serrem but Detective Clint…"

          "What about him?"

          "Apparently there was a fire at the police station, and-"

          "Tell me."

          "Well we don't have any formal reports yet, but-"

          " _Tell me…_ "

          "They were still in there apparently, Detective Clint and Mr. Harcourt, and we don't know who made it."

There was silence for a minute, then "Thank you. I think I'll…thank you."

* * *

          "Medics! We found these two!"

The two medics were already running towards the firemen emerging from the burning building, carrying between them two people who were coughing feebly. Setting them down on make-do stretchers on the floor, the medics started dressing some small burns on them. Peering through the smoke on their faces, the Commander recognized Tim and Detective Clint. In the background, the head fireman was talking to Sam.

          "So, you're saying that you and these two were the only ones in the building?" asked the head fireman.

          "Yes." replied Sam. "Only us three."

          "Thank you. We’ll finish putting out the fire now…" With that, the head fireman walked over and started ordering the other firemen about.

Over the course of the next half an hour, Tim and Clint were taken to the Airfield Infirmary and the blaze was put out. Questions started to be asked.

          "Who started the fire?"

          "Is everyone going to be alright?"

          "Why was the fire started?"

Commander Hurst turned around and walked over to where Sam was standing. She was staring at the stars, shivering slightly in the thin blanket, and the Commander tapped her on the shoulder.

          "My coat?" he asked.

          "What about it?" she asked.

          "Oh- uh- do you want it?" he stuttered. "You look cold." he held out his coat to her, and she took it.

          "Thank you."

          "Do you think they'll be alright?" asked the Commander, giving Sam a sideways glance. "Mr. Harcourt and Detective Clint."

          "Yes, Commander, I’m sure they'll be fine." replied Sam.

          "Please, call me John."

          "Alright, John."

Silence fell between them as they both stared at the stars, hoping that everyone and everything was going to be alright.

* * *

The next day, there was a big group of people in the airfield infirmary, all chatting about the events of the last day.

Detective Clint and Tim were lying in beds, and Bernie, Louis, the Commander, Detective McCabe and Sam were perched miscellaneously on beds and chairs. The whole story about the fire was being pieced together, and written down by Sam.

          "Detective Clint continued to question me, and I continued to observe my right of silence, when smoke started curling under the door." said Tim. "Detective Clint started banging on the door, but when nobody came-“

          “I was out on a shout, sorry.” Sam broke in.

          “-he undid my handcuffs and we both worked on getting out. All this time, the room had been filling with smoke, and as we started trying to bang down the door, Detective Clint started coughing uncontrollably. When we got out, he leant against the wall, and was telling me to get out, but I tried to put out the fire, to save the station. Anyway, for a minute I didn't hear him talking to me and I turned around and he had-"

          "-collapsed." broke in Clint. "I've always been very sensitive to smoke."

          "Anyway, now I knew that we both had to get out of here. I tried to drag him out, but I was starting to be overcome by the smoke myself. It was lucky that the firemen came in just then, or we probably wouldn't have got out."

          "So why did you fight them?" asked Sam. "That's what they told me."

          "I’m too proud," confessed Tim, "But after a few seconds I gave in. I couldn't have kept going any longer."

          "You could have got yourself killed!" said McCabe.

Tim just looked sheepish. Sam finished her line of writing with a flourish, and closed her notebook. The Commander sighed.

          "Well, we know one thing this proves." he said.

          "What?" asked Louis.

          "Tim must be innocent."

          "Why?" asked Bernie.

          "Well, why would he have helped a police officer escape from the police station if he was guilty? And help put out the fire, ‘to save the station’?"

There was general muttering of "True, true."

          "I'm willing to let it go." said Detective Clint.

          "Me too." said McCabe. "It must be the brother, Peter."

          "Yes, explain that story again, Tim?"

          "Ok, fine." Tim shuffled slightly on the bed, settling down to tell his story. "Well, I decided to go out on a cross country flight because the weather was nice, and I hadn’t gone in a while, and Peter said he was interested. We set off, and had been going for about 20 minutes when one of the engines started to whine a little. I thought it would be alright and sort itself out, but then it started properly stuttering and I knew I had to land. I registered the navigation beacon on this airfield, and even though it was a bit away from the flight plan I'd submitted, I made an emergency landing here, and met-"

          "Did you say flight plan?"

All eyes turned to Detective McCabe, who was sitting up on the edge of his bed, eyes on Tim.

          "Yes, we did submit one." said Tim. "You have to, you know."

          "Yes, yes, I’m a pilot too after all." replied McCabe. "I wonder- did Peter say anything about the specifics of the flight plan?"

          "Yes, he practically drew it for me. He said that he wanted that specific course because he wanted…to see…the scenery…Now I understand."

          "What?" asked Detective Clint.

          "He drew that route to hook up with a contact, or similar. If he was willing to kill me in a police station fire, he would have done anything to land somewhere on the route to meet that contact. That's why he had the jewels with him- but why couldn't he have told me?"

          "And you would have gone along with him?" asked the Commander accusingly.

          "Certainly not!" replied Tim. "I would have tried to talk him out of it. That's all I could have done."

          "Back to this flight plan." interrupted McCabe. "Do we still have a copy?"

          "No." said Tim sadly. "It was in the plane when we got out the first time." he suddenly seemed to remember something. "But then, when we went back in afterwards, I taxied it over to the hangar and the map was on the seat and I picked it up to move it and put it in the pocket of my jacket!" he went to get up, but was pushed back by Detective McCabe.

          “You need to rest.” He said. “Someone else will go and get it.

          "I'll get the map from your jacket." Said Bernie.

With that, she got up and ran from the ward, followed by a shout of "Slow down, kid!" from a medic. A couple of minutes later she returned, a folded map in a clear plastic holder in her hand and a triumphant look on her face. "Is this the one you were talking about?"

          "Yes, yes!"

Tim unfolded the map and showed the marked flight plan to the others.

          "Parallel to this coastline, quite a way offshore, and then over land at this point. Uh…Dusty…Dunst…Dunstanburgh Castle. Then, almost right after that, a sharp turn south and straight back home. It looks innocent enough, I can't see anything strange."

          "Why out over the sea?" asked Clint.

          "I don't know, Peter drew it remember?"

          "Oh, yes."

Silence for a minute. Then-

          "Dunstanburgh castle. What do you know about that?" asked McCabe.

          "Nothing much. Peter mentioned it a few times, but-"

          "Then that must be where he was going to meet the contact." said McCabe. "It’s the only place likely. We'll fly there now and see what's happening."

Detective McCabe got up, swayed almost imperceptibly, then walked to the end of the ward and put his coat on. As he was doing this, the medic came over to him.

          "What are you doing, Detective McCabe?" she asked. "You're not rested enough yet!"

          "Sorry, medic, but there are criminals to catch." he said, touching his hat to her before beckoning to the others. "And who's catching them with me?"

* * *

Ten minutes later, out on the tarmac, the two Detectives- under protest from the medics- were climbing into their aeroplane and saying their goodbyes.

          "We'll radio you on what's happening." said a slightly pale McCabe, waving before throwing his overcoat and hat into the back seats and sitting down in the control seat to warm up the engines.

          "If we don't see you again, goodbye and good luck." said Clint, climbing through into the back seat and closing the door.

The crowd stepped back as the twin engines roared, and the Commander had to hang onto his hat as the aircraft started to move towards the runway. It seemed to shoot off, gaining speed every minute, but something was wrong. It wasn’t taking off, just going straight ahead. Suddenly, it veered off to the side; the pilot must have stamped on the breaks quickly, but not quickly enough. The bang of crumpling metal echoed across the airfield.

          "Detectives! DETECTIVES!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three: There is no movement from the wreck of the Islander on the opposite edge of the runway as the Commander, Tim, Bernie and Louis run over to it, shouting the Detectives' names as they go. What caused the crash of the Islander? Are the two detectives badly hurt? Who will catch the crooks now? Find out in the next and final thrilling chapter of The Stop Over!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four: Detective Clint and Tim have been rescued from the fire at the police station, and are almost fully recovered. Sam questions them about what happened, and Louis's theory that Peter is the real crook, not Tim, is agreed by everyone. The two detectives make plans to fly after Peter and intercept the suspected pay off at Dunstanburgh Castle, but in their hurry to take off they shoot across the runway and the plane crumples as it hits the tree opposite!
> 
> Immelmann turn - A tactical move to position the aircraft under the opposition or at the top of a new dive.

          "Detectives! DETECTIVES!"

          "Call people to help!" shouted the Commander, running cross the runway with the others towards the wrecked plane.

Bernie reached it first, climbing under a precariously balanced wing towards the cockpit. Just after she got out from under it on the other side, the wing lost its balance with a loud metallic clang, and Louis stopped in his track on the other side, shock on his face.

          "Bernie!" he shouted at the twisted metal in front of him. "Are you alright?"

          "Yes, I'm fine!" was the slightly muffled reply from behind the wall of metal.

          "What about the detectives?" asked the Commander.

          "Um…" there was a tense moment of silence in which the Commander waited anxiously for a reply. "Are they hurt?"

          "No." replied Detective Clint, his voice also muffled. "A couple of bruises, but nothing serious."

          "I'm fine too!" called McCabe.

          “How are you going to get out?” Louis asked.

          "We'll work a path through now,” Said Detective Clint, “if you guys can do that same on the other side then we'll meet in the middle."

There was general bumping, heaving and scraping of metal by both sides for a few minutes before the wing was propped up with several other pieces of debris, leaving a hole big enough for people to crawl through. Bernie came first, closely followed by Detective McCabe who had a small cut on his cheek and Detective Clint, who limped slightly when he stood up. They seemed otherwise unhurt, but a medic insisted on seeing to McCabe's cut- it only required a plaster, and it hardly needed that. Detective Clint shrugged off the medic saying that his leg was fine. After the chatter died down, all eyes turned to the plane.

          "What happened to make it crash?" asked Commander Hurst.

          “Probably sabotage by Peter.” McCabe said. “I didn’t have any steering power at all, I really had to shove the yolk to get it to move at all, and look where that got us.”

          "I don't like to say it,” said Tim, “but this really proves my brother's guilt."

          "It's a write off, isn't it." said Clint in an annoyed voice. "Now we'll never catch the thief."

Bernie coughed, loudly and deliberately.

          "What?" asked Louis, turning to her.

          "Well, we need an aeroplane to go after Peter, right?" she said.

          "Well, of course." said the Commander.

          "And where are we?" said Bernie, gesturing around her.

Understanding spread over McCabe's face. "Can we borrow one of-". But Bernie was already off and running, and returned five minutes later in her rented Cessna 206*. With her in the control seat, there were five passenger seats in the back.

          "Want a lift, Detectives? I think I'm going your way."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, after Bernie had done a thorough inspection of the plane to check for no further sabotage, the Cessna was in the air. Bernie flying, McCabe, Clint, Louis, Tim and Commander Hurst in the back.

          "Do you know, I don't think you've ever flown me anywhere before Bernie." said the Commander. "You fly very well."

          "That is why she has a licence." said Louis. "I've flown with her many times before, and I think she's a great pilot."

          "Me too." said McCabe. "That was an excellent take off."

          "Thanks." said Bernie. "But now can we get back to the quick matter of finding a known criminal?"

          "Oh, oh yes." said Tim, taking the flight plan out of his pocket. "I think you need to turn…three degrees west, for the quickest route."

Roaring on through the crystal blue sky, the occupants of the aeroplane soon saw Dunstanburgh castle appear over the horizon. Slipping lower, they circled over the ruins for a minute before seeing anything, and even then only one person saw it.

          "Look!" Tim called. "The _Pearl_ , it's there in those trees!"

          "Where?" asked the Commander, not seeing it.

          "There, look, where my finger is."

          "Oh yes!" said Bernie. "I think it does look a bit like Pet-"

          "Watch out!"

Only McCabe's cry saved the party, for at that moment another Cessna appeared as if out of nowhere from the left and would have smashed into them, had Bernie not rolled the plane in surprise at that moment. It took a couple of seconds for Bernie to level the aircraft out again, and but by then the attacking plane was well on its way and disappearing over the horizon. Bernie was in two minds about who to follow, but when the other Cessna vanished into the distance her decision was made for her. Landing bumpily in the large field that the other Cessna had presumably just vacated, Bernie taxied near to the Pearl where it was hidden in the trees. The detectives got out first, volunteering to reconnoitre the situation before everyone else, in case it was dangerous for any reason. Getting out, hands in surprisingly bulky pockets, they walked over towards the _Pearl_ cautiously, quickly disappearing into the trees. When they were hidden, Clint removed a small handgun from his pocket.

          "Is that necessary?" hissed McCabe, not taking out his.

          "You never know." was Clint's curt reply.

They continued moving towards the plane until they were one tree-line away from it, then stopped.

          "Who's that in the cockpit?" asked Clint, making a slight motion towards a shadowy figure sitting in the control seat.

          "I can't see who it is…" said McCabe, moving forwards. "My god." He suddenly ran towards the plane.

          "Bertie! What are you doing?" shouted Clint, rushing after him.

McCabe had already opened the door when Clint arrived, and he was none too pleased when he was pulled back by his fellow detective.

          "What on earth are you doing, Graham?"

          "Saving your neck!" replied Clint. "You don't know what's in there!"

          "I do know that we need to save this lad's neck, he's injured!" said McCabe, turning back to where Peter was slumped in the cockpit, his pale face tilted down above his shoulder which was saturated with red.

The two detectives between them managed to get him out quickly and onto the ground, lying him on an emergency blanket from the first aid kit, and then Detective Clint ran back to Bernie’s Cessna e to get help whilst Detective McCabe looked at Peter's shoulder. As it turned out it wasn't very serious, just a graze, but McCabe knew he would have to get Peter to a hospital as soon as possible. Starting to give the wound a cursory clean, Peter groaned a little and stirred. Quickly opening his eyes, he only had two words on his lips.

* * *

          "What happened?"

Tim was there to meet Detective Clint when he came back from the forest, running from the Cessna to meet him.

          "I'm not going to hide it from you," said the Detective, "Peter's been shot."

The mood changed instantly. Tim drew back and looked Clint up and down, registering the gun held limply in his hand.

          "It was you wasn't it." spat Tim. "I wouldn't put it past you."

          "No, no!" said Clint, dropping the gun on the floor quickly, as though to prove his innocence.

But prove his innocence, it did not. Falling on a patch of stony ground, the trigger was compressed and a single shot was fired, echoing over the landscape and missing Tim by inches. It finally embedded in the fuselage of the Cessna, riling Bernie in a second.

          "Who shot my aeroplane?" she demanded, running to the Tim and Clint.

          "He did." Tim said, pointing a shaky finger at Clint. "And I also have reason to believe he shot my brother."

* * *

          "That's outrageous!"

Peter was sitting up against a tree, his face pale and his shoulder clumsily bandaged. McCabe was sitting near him, watching him carefully whilst he questioned him.

          "So, let me just check your story." said McCabe. "You say that you were paid by one Mr…Leopard, to take the stolen goods, but you were not part of the actual robbery. You took that loot and sold it on, and then they used you again, you getting a bigger and bigger cut every time."

          "Yes." said Peter, staring dejectedly at the ground and obviously regretting his actions.

          "Then, they gave you gems of much importance, but only gave you this location and time to drop them at. You had to come alone, but because it was so far away you decided to rope in your brother, Timothy Harcourt, to fly you here. You drew the flight plan to suit you, but when your engine failed your plan was scrapped. But you really wanted that big cut, and felt sure you would do anything to get it. Including possibly murdering your brother."

          "Just tell me if he got out of the fire or not, please." pleaded Peter.

          "Sorry, I still can't tell you that yet, it might influence your story! " McCabe looked genuinely distressed. "Please, the sooner you finish telling me what happened, the sooner I can tell you everything that happened on the island."

          "Alright. So, I set the fire and stole the Pearl-"

          "-And knocked me out." interjected McCabe.

          "Yes, sorry, I was…desperate. So, with the Pearl I came straight here, looking for the contact. I don’t know why I expected them to be here, over a day later, but I hoped…seeing no plane on the ground, and my tank almost running dry, I had a refuelling stop at Brunton Airfield just past the castle. Whilst I was there I radioed on the frequency they’d given me that I was going to the drop-off point again, but I didn’t get a reply. Then, flying back over the caste, I saw a plane on the ground near it, so I landed. Following the procedure they normally used, I allowed them to approach me first. A tall man with light grey hair and a fedora came from the other plane, a…Cessna it looked like. He came over, and I opened the door, and he asked me for the loot. I got out, got them from the back and handed them over, then got back into the plane, leaving my door open. He said, 'Thank you for your assistance.' and I was about to reply, when he shot me in the shoulder."

          "Grazed you."

          "He still shot me!” said Peter, outraged. “And that's not something I forgive easily!"

          "Sorry." said McCabe. "Go on."

          "He didn't even give me the money. He just left me there bleeding, got in his plane, and took off. I must’ve passed out soon after, because that’s the last thing I remember before you turned up. That's what happened."

Silence settled over the clearing. Suddenly, a gunshot smashed through the silence, making McCabe jump up and stare around the clearing.

          "Clint! GRAHAM!" McCabe was staring intently through the trees, panic beating just behind his eyes.

Soon after there was a pounding of feet getting closer, before Detective Clint rushed into the clearing, closely followed by Tim, Bernie and the Commander.

          "What?" asked McCabe.

          "Peter!" exclaimed Tim, rushing over to where his brother lay. "You're alright!"

          "Well, not quite." said Peter with a small smile. "My shoulder's not particularly comfortable, and  Leopard got away, but other than that I'm fine. I'm glad you're alright though Tim." Peter ruffled his brother’s hair with his free hand, wincing slightly as he did so.

Tim got up and moved over to McCabe.

          "Don't we need to get him to a hospital?" he asked, glancing back to where Bernie and Louis were regarding Peter with suspicion as Commander Hurst was talking to him in low tones.

          "Yes, but we also need to get Mr. Leopard, who apparently is the mastermind behind all this." replied McCabe. "Tell you what, you come with me, Bernie and Louis back to the Airfield, via a hospital, and the Commander can fly Graham on after the crooks."

          "Um, no he can't." said Bernie, joining the conversation. "Not only does the Commander need to be with you guys at the airfield to do the admin on this right away, but I haven't actually seen his flying recently, has anyone else?"

          "Well, there is a small point about that, as it happens…" said the Commander, looking sheepish. "…My licence went out of date a couple of months back, and I haven't had time to renew it yet."

          "Well, that makes a snag then doesn't it." said Clint. "We won't have anyone to fly after the crooks."

There was silence for a minute before Bernie stamped her foot. "Can't any of you see what's right in front of you?"

          "Can you?" asked Clint, looking questioningly at her.

          "Yes! That's why I'm volunteering!" said Bernie. "If Peter's plane is still in order, I can take off as soon as everyone is ready. We've already let the crooks get quite far away as it is.” Everyone looked surprised that Bernie had such a sound plan. “Well?” she said, making them all jump, “Let's go, let's go!"

Everyone jumped at once, McCabe and the Commander picking Peter up between them and moving him towards Bernie's Cessna from the airfield. Louis and Detective Clint jumped into the Piper whilst Bernie did a walk-around, checking that nothing was out of place, and that the bullet had only partially shattered a window; a small problem. A couple of minutes later they were in the air, streaking north after Mr. Leopard's Cessna whilst Bernie's plane headed back to the airfield. Louis was checking the map for airfields on their course in the back of the Pearl, and gave Bernie a heading for Brunton airfield which was just ahead of them. Landing on one of their three runways, they spotted a Cessna on the ground near a fuel bowser, with people putting fuel into it via a thick hose. There was a tall man with light grey hair and the silhouette of a fedora walking around nervously, and he jumped into the cockpit when he saw that the Piper was taxiing over.

          "That must be him!" said Louis. "It looks like the same plane that tried to ram us!"

          "I'll phone for some support." said Clint, jumping out and running over to the airfield office.

As he ran, Mr. Leopard's Cessna started up and he slowly taxied it over to the runway. Bernie started to follow him.

          "Bernie, what are you doing?" asked Louis. "Detective Clint isn't back yet!"

          "We don't have time to wait for him, Leopard will get away!" said Bernie, swiftly following the Cessna as it took off.

Soon both planes were airborne, and seconds later, a crackle came over the radio.

          "Brunton Control to Golf Delta Whiskey Oscar Sierra, come in please."

          “Is that us?” Louis asked.

          “Yes,” Bernie said in annoyance, knowing who was going to be on the other end of the line.

She replied cautiously, keeping her eyes on the plane in front.

          "Brunton Control this is Golf Delta Whiskey Oscar Sierra, I read you loud and clear, but I'm a little busy at the moment."

          "What on earth are you doing, Miss Cosmo?" came Detective Clint's voice. "You abandoned me on the ground, get back here at once!"

          "Sorry, I can't do that." replied Bernie. "If I turn back now, this Leopard guy will get away."

There was an annoyed sigh from the other end. Finally, Clint replied "Fine…" in a resigned voice before leaving the call. But suddenly, Bernie shook herself. Looking out of the front windscreen, the other Cessna had vanished.

          "Where is it?" she said in a panicked voice, looking all around the aeroplane.

When she didn’t see the other Cessna anywhere, she turned to her radio.

          "I'll call them, give them a chance to land.” She said, and Louis nodded. “Golf Delta Whiskey Oscar Sierra to unidentified Cessna, please land a once. Repeat, please land at once or we will have to force you down…!"

There was no reply from the other aircraft, until a deep male voice returned "And how will you do that?"

          "Um…" Bernie was lost for words.

She hadn’t thought this through; they had no means of forcing them down except words.

          "Because if I wanted to force someone down, I would do it like this."

          "What?" Bernie furiously keyed the microphone. "Where even are they?" she asked Louis.

          "I don't- there!" Louis was turned around in his seat, staring out the back window.

Behind them was another Cessna, the elusive Mr. Leopard presumably in the control seat. But he was not alone.

          "Watch out!"

A bullet shot from the muzzle of a passenger's pistol, missing the plane by inches. Bernie fell into a sharp left bank, and the other plane followed them around. Another shot whizzed past, making Louis jump.

          "This is getting too close, Bernie!"

There was no reply from the front seat. To Louis's horror, Bernie was slumped over the controls, the plane being pushed into a steep dive.

          "What happened? Bernie!" Louis shouted, shaking her desperately.

          "Take this!" Bernie suddenly straightened up, pulling the Cessna out of the dive with one hand and quickly shoving a speechless Louis a small package with the other. "Get the signal flare, it's all we've got against them."

Ripping open the thick brown paper of the package, Louis sorted through the other contents before finding a small red plastic flare pistol, with three cartridges. Fitting one of them in, he climbed to the back of the plane, to the partially shattered window. Using his elbow, he rammed the rest of the plexiglass out and looked out. In the front, Bernie was desperately pulling the Pearl around in an Immelmann turn to get him in the best position. This position was flying under and towards the Cessna, so that when Louis put his hand out the window and, clinging on for dear life with a pale face, leant out a little, he could point the pistol upwards and fire it straight into the Cessna’s wing. The plan went perfectly, the hitting the join between the strut and the wing. This done, he shakily returned his head and arm to the cabin and then fell backwards, boneless; he'd fainted. The whole Cessna rocked like a bucking horse on the impact, and shortly afterwards the deep voice reappeared on the radio.

          "What is it? What have you done?"

          "Why don't you land and find out?" Bernie helpfully suggested.

          "Never!" replied the crook’s voice.

          "Then we'll land it for you." A new voice had joined the conversation, and surprisingly it was that of-

          "Detective Clint?" Bernie asked, doing another sharp right turn to evade further bullets from the passenger.

          "That's me!"

A small helicopter zoomed past, one person flying, one person sitting with a radio set in the back and one person sitting slightly out on a wire, a worryingly large firearm in their hand. Detective Clint's voice came over the radio.

          "Police to unidentified aeroplane, you are instructed to follow us back to Brunton Airfield immediately."

Without reply, Leopard turned his plane away from the helicopter, diving for the ground. Even though the helicopter was after them immediately, they couldn't have kept it up for long. There was a deep shear in the metalwork where the flare had hit, and it was threatening to sever the wing from the fuselage. Bernie was observing from the same altitude as before and she saw everything: the Cessna pull up second before hitting the ground, the helicopter following it. A split-second burst of orange and the Cessna jumped, but then followed the helicopter in the direction of Brunton, knowing that it couldn't have continued the chase for much longer. Ten minutes later, all three aircraft were on the tarmac at Brunton Airfield, and Mr Leopard and his gun wielding associate were being arrested and taken to the local police station. After the formalities had been cleared up with the people at the airfield, Detective Clint rounded Bernie and the now-conscious Louis into the Pearl, and Bernie flew them all back to Mecrenris Island. Landing there, they jumped down and were met by Commander Hurst.

          "So?"

          "We got them." said Louis.

          "Yes, and it was mostly down to you, Louis." said Bernie, patting him on the back.

          "Well, not really…"

          "Don't be modest!" Bernie said. "You have fears of flying and heights, and you conquered them both! Not to mention that you hit Leopard's plane in a critical place, which is part of what bought him down."

          "And then I fainted."

          "I was going to leave that bit out…"

Commander Hurst’s jam was on the floor as the group moved away to the Mess, and as they went in Tim walked up to them. He got a coffee, then sat with the group.

          "The people at the hospital said Peter's going to be ok." he said. "They put in some stitches and now it just has to heal."

The Commander told Tim what had happened in the Pearl with Bernie and Louis.

          "At least they got Leopard." said Tim, sipping his coffee.

The was silence for a minute.

          "What are you going to do now, Tim?" asked Louis.

          "I think I'll stay at that hospital until Peter's better, if that's alright with you guys."

          "What? Oh, yes, yes, of course." said the Commander, waving his hand. "Don’t forget, there are always free rooms here if you wanted to stay anytime. And, in fact, there are always more jobs; I've got something you might want to take, Bernie."

          "Yes?" said Bernie, looking interested.

          "A package that one of my friends wants to store here, I'll give you more details later if you want."

          "Ok." returned Bernie, getting up from the table. "I'll be back in a minute, I want to check something on my Cessna."

And as the chatter continued, Bernie walked out of the Mess and onto the flight line. Passing the railing, she paused and looked out down the runway, off to the north and onto the horizon. Watching a bird alight on a tree, she realised that even though this adventure was over, and everyone was safe and sound, this package could well turn into another one. And honestly? She hoped it would.

* * *

  _*References (Ignore registrations):_

_Bernie's Rented Cessna 206:_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Four: And she might be right. Going over to the hangar, she contemplates what Commander Hurst had said. What is in the package? Will it lead to another adventure? This series is over, but look out for the next Ter Map adventure!

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter One: Bernie and Louis watch as the plane slips lower and lower, before it gently runs to a stop on the runway. Why have the police landed here? What will they do next? Find out in the next exciting chapter of The Stop Over!


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